


and then it wasn't

by GentleTouchGinger



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Complete, Family Fluff, Foster Care, Gen, High School, Parental Roy Mustang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentleTouchGinger/pseuds/GentleTouchGinger
Summary: When Roy notices his smartest student is struggling, he does some snooping and discovers some startling truths about his home life. Modern AU. Foster AU. Parental Roy and Ed.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I’ve been working on this fic for several weeks and I’m excited to share it! Hoping to do weekly updates on Mondays. The fic is fully outlined and nearing completion as I post this, so proceed with minimal risk of abandonment (I mean, I could get struck by lightning or something?). Thanks to Rilie and Louise for betaing!

In all his years as an AP Chemistry teacher, Roy had never met a smarter kid than Edward Elric. 

The kid had the entire periodic table memorized. When Roy asked him why, he shrugged and said “for fun”. He aced every test, answered the hardest bonus questions, sketched electron configurations instead of taking notes. 

But, Edward Elric was also the most insufferable student Roy had ever taught. He texted all class, not even bothering to be subtle about it. No punishment would deter the kid, and when Roy had tried to take his phone, Edward had gotten violently upset, forcing Roy to back off. 

He  _ never _ took notes, Roy didn’t even think he owned a notebook or a binder for the class, and when he wasn’t texting in class, he was asleep on the desk. He sat in the front of the room (an accessibility request, since one of his legs was a prosthetic), and made absolutely no effort to even  _ appear _ like he was paying attention.

It drove Roy up the wall. Nothing could make him care about the class. The closest thing to enthusiasm he ever showed was in labs. Edward would perk up, eagerly accept the brunt of the work for his group, and breeze through each step, but as soon as he was done, he’d just settle back down to sleep, or he’d pull out homework for another class. 

Why couldn’t this kid get his shit together? It was a waste of both of their time, and Roy was sick of it.

In the middle of one of Roy’s classes, his lecture was suddenly interrupted by a loud snore. The entire class burst into laughter. Roy turned and slammed a hand down on Edward’s desk, causing the kid to bolt upright in shock. Edward’s eyes flicked around the room before he turned to look at Roy with a panicked expression, breath coming in short, quick bursts.

“Now that you’ve decided to rejoin the class, Edward, can you tell me what bond keeps a DNA strand together?

The kid seemed to have recovered from his moment and panic, and just stared up at him with a dazed, bored look in his eyes. Without even trying to open the closed textbook on his desk, he answered.   


“Hydrogen. Ya’ know, keeps Guanine with Cytosine, Adenine with Thymine. Makes it stable,” he replied lazily, not appearing at all phased by the question. His breathing was back to normal, steady. 

Snickers rippled through the classroom, and Roy clenched his jaw in annoyance, because honestly, what the fuck? They wouldn’t be discussing bonding within molecules until next chapter, and even though he’d aced all the reading check quizzes, Roy  _ knew _ the kid hadn’t so much as glanced at the textbook all year.

Honestly, Roy  _ should  _ just shut up and be grateful. The kid would get a five on his AP exam, surely, and that would help Roy’s scores. But he was ruining Roy’s reputation as a strict teacher, and it made Roy furious.

“Correct,” Roy finally confirmed. “Imagine what else you could learn if you didn’t sleep and text all class.” 

The comment earned him a few “oohs” from the other students, and several awkward stares.  _ Good _ , Roy thought. The kid deserved to be taken down a peg. Right now, the class was treating him like some sort of folk hero.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Edward replied, raising his one hand and waving him off. “Bet I’d be a nuclear scientist or something by now. Don’t you want to get back to your notes?”    


* * *

During his planning period, Roy plodded into the faculty room, desperate for some sort of break. The room was small, with a kitchenette, a table, and a sofa, complete with the ever-lovely tile and fluorescent lights, but it was the only place in the building students weren’t allowed, and that made it a safe haven. Roy poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to sit at the table. He set the mug down hard, and coffee sloshed out onto the chipped vinyl.

“Upset? How many of them failed your test this time? You know, you could think about showing a  _ little  _ mercy.”

Roy looked over to see Gracia Hughes sitting on the lone sofa, a stack of papers in her lap. He cracked a smile.

“Ah, but then I’d lose my reputation,” he teased back. “That’s what test corrections are for, anyways.” He nodded down at the papers. “Essays?” 

“Mmm hmm. They’re improving.” 

Roy had a soft spot for Gracia. She’d gotten him his job, after all. After he’d been discharged, and suddenly stuck in the  _ wonderful _ position of being a veteran without a job or a purpose, he’d decided to go back to school to get his teaching license. Roy had served with Maes (hell, Maes had been the best man at his wedding), and when he’d heard Roy was looking for a job, he’d immediately enlisted Gracia’s help. She and Maes had pulled all sorts of strings to get in the position he currently held, and years later, he was still grateful. It had been strange at first, to work with the woman he knew mostly from letters and Maes’ stories, but Gracia was an absolute delight. 

“How’s Maes?”    


“Oh, you know. Busy as ever, at the station, and all. He’s chaperoning a field trip for Elicia today, and he’s been sending me the cutest photos. You know him.” 

“ _ Yes  _ I do,” Roy replied, stepping over as Gracia pulled out her phone. She turned the screen towards him and he flipped through photos of Elicia at the science museum: her hair sticking up from static electricity, unearthing a “dinosaur skeleton”, inside a hurricane simulator. 

“Looks like they’re having fun,” he commented, stepping back over to the table and sipping his coffee. 

“Oh yes,” Gracia said with a soft laugh. “I’ll be hearing  _ all  _ about it tonight.”

The conversation dropped as Roy stared angrily into his coffee instead of drinking it.

“Really, Roy, is something wrong? You know, Maes gets distant sometimes too, there’s nothing wrong with Post Traumatic-” 

“No, no, it’s not that. But thank you,” Roy interrupted, grateful they were alone in the lounge. “There’s just this student. He sleeps half the class and he’s always on his phone. He never takes any notes and I know he isn’t doing any of the reading, but he gets top scores. Hell, I don’t know if I’ve ever taught a kid with this much potential. And he’s just...wasting it.” 

“Those ones are frustrating, aren’t they?” she replied with a sigh. “What’s his name?”

“Edward Elric,” Roy responded.    
  
“Oh, I have him,” Gracia said quickly, looking up at Roy with a jolt. “He’s about the same in my class, except he tries to take notes and comes for help at lunches. I asked about him a while back, when he was failing first semester.”

Gracia straightened herself up, moving the papers aside. “Roy, he’s in foster care. A group home, I think. He’s probably got a lot more to worry about than a class he’s already good at.” 

Roy could actually feel his heart drop, because,  _ shit.  _ He hadn’t known. Roy would have been so much more lenient with the kid, why didn’t he write that on his info sheet at the beginning of the year? That’s why Roy  _ had  _ the “anything else?” section.    
  
“I...I didn’t…” he stuttered, looking over at Gracia, who had moved to sit at the table with him.   
  
“I know,” she comforted, warmly placing her hand on his. “Just don’t be too hard on him, alright?” 

“Of course,” Roy replied quickly. “Why don’t they tell us shit like this?” 

Gracia sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think the district is allergic to common sense.”

Roy laughed at that, grateful to her for lightening the mood, but even Gracia’s smile couldn’t shake the crushing guilt in his chest. 

* * *

Before, the thought of Edward made his blood boil. Now, Roy couldn’t stop feeling bitterly upset for the kid. The longer he thought, the more things clicked into place. Of  _ course  _ Edward slept during class, who knew how much quiet he got at home? Of  _ course  _ he did homework for other classes in the middle of Roy’s, who knew how much time had for it?

Hell, even his lack of note taking made sense. Did he have to buy his own school supplies? If so, why would he waste what little spending money he had on a notebook for a class he was good at? 

Honestly, the thing that devastated Roy the most was the knowledge that Edward, his smartest student (despite how much he tried to convince himself otherwise), hadn’t trusted him enough to let him know any of it. And it was completely Roy’s fault.    
  
The next day in class, for the first time all year, Roy let Edward sleep as long as he wanted. He called on other students, to the surprise and horror of everyone else. Despite this, no one attempted to wake Edward up, or point out to Roy that he was sleeping. 

One thing Roy appreciated about high schoolers was their strong sense of unity. He’d seen it, as students crowded around Edward’s desk as he answered their questions before the test, as bags of snacks were quietly passed around, as someone ran to get closed-toe shoes from their locker for another student who had forgotten to wear them for a lab. 

If Roy didn’t say anything about Ed sleeping, then no one in that classroom was about to bring it up. 

After class ended, and kids shuffled out into the hallway, Roy maneuvered himself over towards the door. As Edward approached, he stopped him. Edward looked up at him with an irritated expression.

“What?” he grumbled. “Mad about me sleeping, again? Because it doesn’t stop me from-”

“I know,” Roy interrupted. “I’m not mad, alright? I just...look, Edward. You’re one of my top students. Do you want to go to college for chemistry? Because you should.”

Edward seemed taken aback by the comment. He looked up at Roy with complete, utter shock. Finally, he’d managed to ask a question Edward didn’t have the answer to. He felt a strange, twisted sort of pride that he’d managed to surprise him. 

But then Edward’s expression shifted and he looked away. “Don’t think so,” he muttered in a low, bitter tone. “It’s a lot of money.”

“But there’s scholarships,” Roy said desperately. “Edward, you’ve got talent. The things you could do-”

“Even if I got a full ride, it wouldn’t be enough,” Edward snapped, suddenly staring at at Roy. His gaze was stern, eyes bright with fury. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave me alone.”

And with that, Edward turned and stormed out of the classroom.

* * *

Edward fumed the entire way home, blasting shitty music through earbuds that only worked when you held them just right as he looked out the bus window. He rested his phone against his thigh so he would feel the buzzing alert of a text message instantly.

What right did Mustang have to lecture him about his future? He was just a shitty AP Chem teacher worried about his test scores or something. He didn’t know jack shit. Sure, college sounded fan-fucking-tastic, but it wasn’t really an option, now was it? 

His only hope for getting custody of Al at eighteen was becoming financially stable, and he doubted having a load of student debt and no income would convince the state he was. His grades in everything but Chemistry were barely passing, and he didn’t have the time to fill out scholarship applications. Or, for that matter, college applications.

So yeah, the bastard had no idea what he was talking about. 

The bus slowed and Ed stood up, swinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. He sat up front - buses were hell enough with one leg and one arm to worry about clambering all the way to the back. The stop was a half mile or so from the home, but his foster parents didn’t give a single shit. He walked to and from the stop in the rain (wincing from the aching pain in his stumps), in the sharp cold, in the blistering summer heat; it didn’t matter to them. Still blasting the shitty music and holding his phone in his hand, Ed started the long, slow walk home.

When he arrived, sweaty and sore, he walked up the porch steps. He opened the door slowly and closed it quietly behind him. Pausing only to slip off his shoes, he dashed almost silently into his room. He closed the door behind him, threw down his bag, and collapsed onto the twin bed. 

He couldn’t hear anyone, which was good. Maybe he’d get a few quiet hours. Maybe he could get some work done, read a book, do  _ something  _ in the absence of the yelling and fighting and thuds from the living room. 

This was all because of his stupid missing arm and leg. His prosthetic leg was shit, and no one wanted to pay for a new arm. After several counseling sessions, the state therapist had decided he had ADHD and PTSD and a bunch of other shit, which certainly didn’t help his situation. He got around fine, and he was on medication for all the mind bullshit, but that didn’t stop the state from labeling him “special-needs”. He soon learned the term was a scarlet letter. No one cared about special-needs kids. No one wanted to learn what they really needed or who they were beyond their “difference”. They just wanted them out of sight and out of mind. For Ed, and the kids here, getting out was a distant, bleak hope (one Ed had long given up on).

“Well, Edward, Alphonse,” the social worker had said. “Unfortunately there is not a home at this time able to take in both of you.”

Al had gasped, shattering the stale, pristine silence. Ed reached for him and glared at the woman behind the desk.

“What does that mean? No one wants both of us?”

“No, no, it’s not that at all,” she had said in that too-sweet voice. “Edward, you require a home that can meet your special needs. I think it’s best we place you in a setting that can give you the care you need, and place Al with another family.” 

“But...but we…” Al had stuttered. “We’re family. We’re supposed to stay together.” He’d looked over at Ed. The unspoken ‘you promised’ cut into Ed like a knife.

“I  _ am _ sorry,” she’d replied. “We’ll arrange visits.”

Visits that were always too short, too few and far between. Al lived almost an hour from Ed, and Ed’s family was never willing to drive far. Hell, they only drove him to the visits at all because they were court-mandated. Every few months, he’d get dropped off at some ice cream place and left to wait for Al’s family to drive up. They could talk in person and hug each other and cry and eat ice cream for a few hours, but them Al’s foster mother would smile that patronizing smile and announce it was time to go, and hold Al’s hand as he cried on the way to the car.

What a wonderful fucking substitute for living with his brother.

He had the phone, though, and he didn’t know what he’d do without it. Al’s second foster family paid for it (mostly because the two would stay on the phone for  _ hours,  _ and they wanted their landline back). He and Al texted all day, and honestly, without the damn thing, Ed knew they probably would’ve fallen out of touch by now. It had been  _ years  _ since they’d lived together, not since the accident. 

Ed heard the front door open and immediately his stomach dropped. He waited in a tense sort of silence before the bedroom door opened and he relaxed as Lan Fan, his foster sister, stepped in. 

Quiet when she had the luxury to be, tough as nails and one hell of a guardian, Ed honestly didn’t know how he’d manage without Lan Fan. She was missing an arm, same as him, and there was a kinship there he couldn’t explain. Sure, she was annoying sometimes (she was crazy flexible and strong and a total show-off about it), but good to have around.

“Relax, no one’s home. They won’t be back for another hour, “ Lan Fan said. “Have you checked on the kids upstairs?” 

Ed shook his head. “Didn’t know they weren’t here,” he replied, already stepping towards the door. 

“Yeah I got a text. Traffic.” 

Often their foster father wouldn’t be back until after dinner, but he was home by six at the earliest. A neighbor drove the little girls to school each day, and dropped one of the boys at his stop. Their foster mother worked part-time and stayed home to look after the kids, in theory, but sometimes things happened, and now an entire pack of small children had been left alone in the house for at least an hour, probably more. 

Ed should’ve been worried, but this had happened so many times, he couldn’t find it in himself to be anxious. The oldest kid (besides the two of them) was ten. He stopped most emergencies before they happened. 

Leaning heavily on the railing, Ed worked his way up the stairs behind Lan Fan. Ed had shared his tiny room with another kid who didn’t do stairs, but he’d moved out a week ago, and now Ed had the strange luxury of having a room to himself (although he doubted it would last for long). Lan Fan shared a room with two younger girls, one three and the other five. The third room was home to an eight year old boy and a ten year old. Ed and Lan Fan took care of them all. 

They opened the door to the small playroom, and immediately the kids ran over to them. Lan Fan moved to put on a movie while Ed wrapped the closest child in a tight, one-armed hug. He reached for some tissues, leaning down to blow the youngest girl’s nose. She was  _ so  _ stuffed up, but there wasn’t any more cold medicine for toddlers in the cabinet, and it wasn’t like they could ask. 

She clung to Ed, grabbing ahold of his pant leg. Ed signed rapidly to her ( _ how are you feeling? _ ), and she looked up at him with a pouty expression. She placed her flat right fingers against her lips and moved her hand down sharply.  _ Bad _ . 

“I’m going to hunt down something for Em’s cold,” Ed called to Lan Fan, who was messing with the VHS.

“Go for it,” she called back.

Ed turned out of the room and began his long, slow descent down the stairs. Step, thump, step, thump, step - 

“Can you stop that shit?” 

Ed froze, clutching the railing. He stared down to see his foster father sitting in a chair, flicking through channels on the TV. Immediately, his stomach lurched. He’d been here the whole time? Sleeping off a hangover, no doubt, must’ve skipped work or come home early today. There was no fucking way he’d come upstairs to check on the kids he was supposed to be in charge of.

“I thought…” Ed said, choosing his words carefully. “I thought you were at work.” 

“Nah,” he called back. “Now, come down quieter, alright? Banging hurts my head.” 

Ed took another cautious step down the staircase, using the railing to avoid putting any weight on his prosthetic.    
  
“That’s better,” his foster father said without looking up.

Ed had half a mind to turn around and warn Lan Fan that the asshole was here and up, but there was a good chance she’d already heard. Besides, he needed to find something to help Em.  _ They  _ didn’t care if she was hurt, or sick, or crying. They only cared when she wasn’t quiet.

Ed reached the floor and moved as silently as he could to the kitchen. He started rustling through drawers. He knew saline drops might help her nose, and the stuff was easy enough to make. Baking soda, salt, warm water. 

He opened up one of the cabinets and grabbed ahold of the baking soda, then snatched the salt shaker off the table. He shook the amounts out into a cup and filled it with warm water, quickly beginning to stir. He knew there was a dropper upstairs, he just had to get this back up. But how was he going to walk quietly carrying the cup? 

“What’re you doing in there?” 

A dark fear crept into his gut (the same dark fear that turned him into someone he didn’t recognize) at the sound of his foster father’s voice.

“Nothing!” Ed called, trying to sound casual. “Just getting some water.” 

With a flash of horror, Ed heard the chair creak. Fuck, fuck, he needed to get out of here, if he just could get this idiot to forget he was here, then-

“Why’re you rustling around, then?” He was standing, now, and stalking towards Ed. “Stealing food from us? Lying about it, huh?” 

“No!” Ed shouted, knowing he needed to stop that train of thought as quickly as possible. He took a shaking step backwards, glancing around for escape routes. “It’s water! It’s some water for Em’s nose, for her cold, I wasn’t-”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” Fuck. Ed knew that tone, that dark rumble that meant he was losing the opportunity to reason with him.

Ed looked away. “I’m sorry. Really. I just was-”

A fist slammed into his cheek, knocking him to the ground, and the heavy shock of the blow cut off the unsaid “scared”.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for all the love! Hoping to finish writing the fic soon. This story really is a love letter to my highschool years, and an exploration into the lives of those around me who had crappy parents. I’ve been writing and editing this to death for a month and it’s been a blast. If you wanna come and bug me on my tumblr, gingerthesnap, feel free! I’m chatty, don’t be shy. 
> 
> Thanks to Louise and Rilie for betaing! And congratulations to Louise’s foster cat Milly, for giving birth to five kittens Saturday night! <3 I’m posting this early in honor of the brave mama.

When Roy told Riza about his attempt to try and get through to Edward, she snorted at him. Actually snorted, and nearly choked on her coffee. 

“I know this is going to come as a shock to you,” she said, in the gentle, slow voice she used to dumb things down for him, “but kids in the system are lectured on a regular basis about the benefits of college, Roy.” 

“I know that,” he replied. “It’s just...Riza, he’s  _ so  _ smart.”

“I’m sure,” she said, moving to pet Black Hayate, their loyal Shiba Inu, as the news played quietly in the background. “Lots of smart kids don’t go to college, Roy. And lots of stupid ones do. If he doesn’t want to go, there’s nothing you can do about that.” 

“I  _ know,  _ Riza, but I can’t just...sit by and watch him waste his potential, alright?” he snapped, drawing his wife’s attention away from their dog. “I’ll...I’ll figure something out.” 

“I’m sure you will,” Riza said, shifting closer to him. “But pressuring him to do something he can’t? That isn’t helping. Try to figure out more about his situation. Learn what’s stopping him, and work from there, alright?” 

Roy let out an irritated sigh. “Alright.” He knew she was right (she was always right, and hell, this was her job, she was a damn social worker, it wasn’t his place to tell her what a foster kid needed) but he couldn’t stand feeling stuck. 

It reminded him of that small country town, that high school, where he’d gone to the military recruiter just to get away, only to find the armed forces were worse. And then she’d followed him (he’d dragged her into hell with him) and they’d fought together and gotten out together. He’d gone on to teach, used his skill with chemicals for sometimes besides destruction, and she’d gone on to help children. Maybe not the one she still woke up screaming about, breath stolen by panic, but children in need nonetheless.

After a year of social work, Riza decided if they were going to have children, they were going to adopt, and got the surgery to ensure it. They were a licensed foster home, just in case Riza found kids she couldn’t leave behind. 

And here they were, he supposed. A social worker and a teacher and a dog. Making it.

* * *

The next day in class, Edward stayed awake for the entire lecture. He was clearly doing Spanish homework, but it was better than yesterday. He didn’t answer any questions, didn’t even look at the board. His hood was up and he refused to make eye contact with Roy, which was strange. Sure, Edward wore that same red sweatshirt to school everyday, but something was off.

As the class slowly filtered out, Roy stepped up to Edward’s desk. The kid didn’t look at him as he shoved his books into his bag.   


“Are you going to lecture me about college again?” he grumbled. “Because nothing you say is going to change things.” 

Before Roy could reply, Edward turned to pick up his bag. The hood slipped and Roy was able to see his face. The sick, dark purple of a bruise marred his cheek. 

“Hey,” he hissed, and Edward quickly pulled the hood back up. “Hey! That looks bad. How’d that happen?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I forgot. Are you going to let me leave?” 

“I need to know,” Roy snapped, because the tone of this encounter had drastically changed in an instant. All he could feel was a steady, cold, anger thrumming in his chest, because honestly, what the fuck? “How’d that happen?” 

Edward grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He looked up at Roy, and finally, he got a decent look at the bruise. Edward’s entire cheek was swollen, but his eye looked alright, thank god.

“Why?” Edward snapped. “So you can tell administration? So you can call CPS? They’ll do some bullshit interview and leave me there, and then it’ll be worse. Stop pretending like you know what’s best for me-” 

“Look,” Roy said, cutting him off. “I know you’re in foster care, okay? If one of your parents did that to you, they shouldn’t be allowed near kids. What if they do it to another kid, huh?” He knew he was being an asshole, but he needed to convince this kid to accept his help somehow, and it was clear he didn’t care about his own wellbeing. 

_ Fuck, kid, what kind of hell have you been through? _

Edward looked away, letting out an irritated huff. “They  _ won’t _ ,” he insisted, and Roy was struck with a sudden, shocking ache of compassion for the child in front of him.

“I have to tell,” he finally said, after a long, awkward silence. “Legally, I’m required to.”

Edward’s face paled. “Why?” he snapped. “That’s bullshit!” 

“It really isn’t,” Roy replied. “Reporting child abuse?” 

“I’m not being abused-” Edward muttered in response, staring at the floor.

“I think someone hit you,” Roy interrupted, a cold look in his eyes. He didn’t believe Edward for a second. Whatever hold these people had over him was strong, but it didn’t change the truth. “I’ve been trying to be lenient with you, but I can’t-” 

“Oh, sure you’ve been lenient. You call me out every single class! You tried to take my phone!” Edward shouted, looking up at him again with fresh anger. His hair was messy, all over the place (did he brush it?) and his teeth were clenched as he glared at Roy with loathing. 

And he deserved it. The words hit Roy like ice, because they were true. Fuck, fuck, Roy, you’re an asshole, you’ve made this worse for him, you absolute  _ piece of shit _ , this kid hates you and you deserve it. 

“Listen, I-” 

“I don’t want your help, alright? You’re an asshole. I’ve got more important shit to deal with than you.” 

And, for the second time that week, Edward stormed out of the classroom. 

* * *

“I know someone hit him, Riza. Someone  _ hit  _ him.”

Roy was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, his half-graded stack of tests forgotten (he’d promised them back by the end of the week). Black Hayate sat and watched him curiously from the living room, his ears in an “alert” position.

“It’s Elric, right?” Riza said from the sofa, not looking up from her laptop. “E-L-R-I-C?” 

“Yes,” Roy called, continuing his laps around the table. “Look, I just...Riza, you work for the state. Can’t you get him out of that house? And have the guy arrested?”  _ This  _ is why they had the death penalty, he thought. For pieces of shit like this.

“I’ll look into it, okay? I know their worker. I’m sending her an email now, she owes me a favor.” 

Roy paused in his paces. “Is that ethical?”

Riza shrugged. “The entire system runs on coffee, underpaid employees, and outdated filing systems. The kid’s right. Calling CPS is good, but if they don’t do anything, which they probably won’t, for the first call...you said he had visible bruising?” 

“Yes.”

“They could lie their way around that, though. And it seems like Edward would back them up. I mean, they’ll be thin excuses, but…” Riza pressed her forehead against her hand. “Let me think.”

“Why would he back them up?” Roy asked, shocked at the idea that a child would want to stay in an abusive home. Edward had lied to him about the abuse, yes, but lying to someone who could get him out? 

“Because if he doesn’t back them up, and he isn’t removed, the abuse will just get worse,” Riza replied. “It’s too much of a risk. There’s other reasons he might want to stay there, too. Scared of being sent out of the area, doesn’t want to be separated from a friend or a sibling…” 

“I had to call CPS, Riza. It’s the law.” 

“I know. And I don’t think you did anything wrong. There’s a chance they’ll figure out what’s happening, a good one, but I’m looking at this from every angle. Why don’t you come sit down?” 

With a long, low sigh, Roy stepped into the living room. Black Hayate stood up and trotted behind him. He curled up at Riza’s feet (she was his favorite) as Roy settled down besides her on the couch. 

“There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” Riza said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close with a content hum. “Tomorrow, try talking to him again, see if you can convince him to be honest with CPS. His social worker knows me, and I think she’ll move him even if CPS doesn’t do anything. That family’s license is up for renewal soon. I can stick my nose in and make sure that doesn’t happen. Okay?” 

Roy let out a sigh, because of course Riza knew how to calm him down. “You work too damn hard sometimes,” he muttered, resting his head against her shoulder. She combed her fingers through his hair. 

“I know,” she murmured, pressing a light kiss against his temple. “So do you.” 

* * *

Ed was pissed. Pissed because he knew CPS wasn’t going to do a damn thing, pissed because his asshole teacher had suddenly decided to give a shit about him after being a dick to him all year, pissed because he’d just flunked a test and somehow, somehow, that was the last thing he was worried about.

He and Lan Fan had been up texting until two in the morning trying to figure out what they were going to tell CPS. She wanted to tell the truth, Ed was more wary, and a conclusion hadn’t been reached. He trusted her. They were on the same sinking ship and she was one of his only friends, but he didn’t know if the slim chance of getting out of this hellhole was worth risking everyone’s safety.

At least the bruise was starting to heal, he thought, as he began to gather his things after another Chemistry period of not being interrupted while he did work he actually needed to do. But as other students filtered out of the classroom, he looked up to see Mustang blocking his path. Perfect. Another awkward, terrible conversation.

“Can I just go?” he asked, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “CPS is coming tonight, you’ve already screwed me up enough for one day without making me late to lunch, too.” 

Something close to shock passed over his teacher’s face, but Mustang’s omnipresent, stoic expression returned soon after.

“In a minute,” he said. “I just...look. I’m sorry if things get worse because I called. But I really didn’t have a choice.” 

Ed glared up at him. Oh, so he was sorry  _ now _ ? That did everyone a lot of good. “You didn’t have to snoop,” he grumbled. 

“I wanted to help you, okay?” Roy replied, in a somewhat exasperated tone. “I didn’t know you were in foster care until a few days ago.” 

He found out? How the fuck did he find out? A few teachers knew, but no kids, and Ed had really done his best to keep the whole thing under wraps.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like people knowing!” Ed snapped defensively. “Because then they start treating me like _ this _ . I’m still a person, you know. Just because I’ve been through a lot of shit and I’m going through a lot of shit doesn’t mean I’m some sort of...thing...that you need to treat differently.” 

Roy exhaled sharply through his nose. “Alright, Edward,” he said. “Please. Tell me what I  _ can  _ do for you.”

Ed looked up at him with a curious expression, because honestly, what the fuck? What could Mustang do for him? Even if he really did want to help, what the fuck was he capable of doing? 

“Just…” Ed said, letting out a long sigh. “Just, please. Leave me alone.” 

* * *

“‘Leave me alone’ means leave him alone, Roy.”

“I know, I know, Riza,” Roy said, pacing awkwardly outside the school gate. The reception in his classroom was awful.  “Look, did you talk to your friend?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“But what?” 

Riza’s sigh sent a blast of muffled static into the phone. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yes, Riza. What did you find out?” 

“He’s got a little brother.”

“At the home with him?”

“No. They’ve been separated as long as they’ve been in care, and they’ve been in care for...four years, now?” 

Anger rose in Roy’s gut like a flame, and he froze in his steps. He’d known this kid for a year, and hadn’t know about any of this shit. He’d been separated from his brother for four years? 

“Why?” he snapped. “Why the hell are they-” 

“Because Edward has special needs, and his brother doesn’t,” Riza replied, not reacting to his tone. “There aren’t many homes willing to take special needs kids, and if a home is, social workers don’t like to stick kids who aren’t special needs in that house. Their social worker’s been trying to shuffle some kids around to get them together, but nothing’s come up. There’s nowhere for the two of them to go.” 

“Did they ask to live together?” Roy asked, trying to find something to make this all okay, and not what he thought. Maybe the brothers had a bad relationship.

“Yes. They did. And they maintain contact,” Riza replied, and Roy could hear the resigned anger in her voice. The same anger that was steadily rising in Roy’s chest. So two kids lose everything, and the system can’t find a way to keep them under the same roof?

Roy was quiet for a long moment. “I’m so sick of this,” he muttered, leaning against the wall. “I mean, shit, Riza-” 

“Trust me, I know,” she replied in a strained voice. “I see this everyday, Roy.”

He’d known it was her job, he’d heard her talk about the shit she’d seen kids go through, the terrible homes, the tough decisions she had to make, but he’d never really  _ known _ . And now he felt like an asshole.

“Well, what the fuck do we do now?” he asked wearily, because he knew Riza and if she was calling, she already had some sort of crazy solution to the problem.

“Hear me out,” Riza said, and Roy found himself smiling despite the situation, because  _ of course _ . “We’re a licensed foster home, and...”

“Riza-” Roy said, but was quickly cut off. 

“We can end this shit. Right now,” Riza said. “I know. I know it’s a lot, Roy, and there’s nothing wrong with walking away right now. But I think I can get both of them in our house. Soon.”

In their house. All of this could end, the worrying, the borderline stalking, the investigating, because this kid could be safe, in his house. Having foster kids in his house wasn’t committing to being a parent forever, just...for a little while. Until the perfect situation came along. 

“You think you can get them?” Roy asked. “Both of them?” 

“Yes,” Riza replied, in a sharp, confident tone. “I just need time.”

“What the hell. Do it.”

* * *

When the last bell rang that day, Roy hunted Edward down, rushing over to his English class and catching him as he left. 

Edward looked up at him with an irritated expression. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ did you not under-” 

“Listen,” Roy hissed, cutting him off abruptly. “My wife-” 

“You have a wife?” the kid asked, and Roy paused for a second because what the hell? Was that really so surprising? He knew he was a miserable asshole, but at least Riza seemed to enjoy his company. 

“Listen. My wife is a social worker. She thinks she could get you moved, okay? To, uh, to our place.” God, having a student live with him was going to be awkward as hell. “We’re licensed. I just...would you hate that? Because I can see what else she can do for you if you don’t want that.” 

Edward stared up at him with a stunned expression, his mouth hanging open. He looked like he’d just been slapped in the face.

“But...the others,” he muttered after a long silence. “The home…” 

Offered an out and the kid wouldn’t take it if he’d be leaving his friends in a bad situation. Well, shit. If Roy’s heart hadn’t broken for the kid already, it had now. 

“They won’t be fostering children much longer, even  _ if  _ CPS decides they’re a fit home. Trust me.”

“If you want to take someone, you’ve got to take my little brother,” Edward said quickly, as if in a panic. “He’s moved families so many times and it needs to stop, I’m okay, really, if you can just take him and keep him-” 

Roy rested a hand on Edward’s shoulder, cutting him off. “We’re going to try to take both of you.” 

Edward’s expression shifted, revealing a side of the kid Roy had never seen before. A desperate hope shone in his eyes, his breath came in short, quick bursts, and the tension in his entire body seemed to have melted.  _ Good _ , Roy thought. He’d never seen the kid look so happy.

“Al?” he finally managed to gasp. “You…”

“Yes, Ri-my wife thinks she can get him. But if that’s...if that’s not what you want, I understand-” 

“No. I mean. Yes. Yes,” Edward said immediately. “I want to. I’d live anywhere if it meant I could be with Al. I’d live in a dumpster. On the side of a highway. On the stre-”

“Okay, well our house is going to be better than a dumpster,” he said, squeezing Edward’s shoulder briefly before removing his hand. “I can promise that much. Nothing’s set in stone, okay? Don’t tell your foster parents. I just wanted you to know.”

Edward nodded, almost comically fast. 

“Listen to me, Ed. I need you to be honest with CPS, okay? It’ll make things go smoother on our end. I promise, nothing bad will happen. I just need you to be honest with CPS.” 

Edward stared up at him for a long moment, distrust flickering in his gaze. Roy didn’t blame him, he had every reason not to be wary. Finally, he broke eye contact. 

“Alright,” he muttered. “I believe you.” 

“Here. Let me give you my number,” Roy said. “If something goes wrong, you call me, alright?” He reached for Ed’s phone began to type in his contact. “I mean it. I’ll figure it out, okay? You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore.” 

Again, Edward nodded, seemingly stunned silent. He tucked his phone back into his pocket. 

Roy glanced around at the abandoned hallway. “Don’t you have a bus to catch?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Edward said, looking around at the hallway and also seeming surprised by the lack of people. “Uh...thanks. For. You know.” 

Roy smiled down at him. “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed. He nodded towards the end of the hallway. “Now get moving.”

“R-right!” Edward said, in a shocked sort of obedience. He turned and began to clumsily jog down the hallway, limping heavily on his prosthetic as he did so. 

Another thing they’d have to get fixed. Fuck. What had they gotten themselves into? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make my day, really! I get super excited and force people (aka my roommate) to look at them! Also, if you like this fanfic, and you have a few dollars to spare, consider donating to comfortcases.org! They provide backpacks for foster kids so they don’t have to carry their stuff around in a garbage bag.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so so so much for leaving nice comments! It makes me so happy omg, and it pressures me to keep working on this, so you’re helping yourselves! Sorry to keep dropping it but if you guys wanna come and chat with me on tumblr, I’ll totally start leaving like...sneak peeks there or something because it’d be so much more fun to talk with you in a one on one environment. It’s gingerthesnap! 
> 
> Also, if you like my writing, I wrote a novel and I wrote for, concepted, and led development on a game which was recently released. I'll put links on my profile. This is a side project while I’m trying to get a degree to do this professionally, so...this is not the last you’ll be seeing of me! If you’re curious about like...me as a writer I can share some more social media with you.
> 
> Big thanks to Rilie and Louise for betaing!

 “Did you tell him?”

Roy merged onto the highway, his phone balanced in a cup holder and on speaker so he could hear Riza.

“Yes, I did,” he replied, happy to give her some sort of good news. “Seemed excited. Shocked out of his mind, though.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine.”

“I’d hate to think I just gave him false hope. He can stay, right?”

“Yes, his worker’s going to move him. We’re picking him up tomorrow night,” Riza said. “You might want to take a day off work.”

Roy felt the tension in his chest dissolve, because of course Riza had managed the impossible, but it was soon followed by a sudden rush of panic. They were going to have a kid in their house? He spent all day with children, and so did she, but that was their job. Being a parent, even if it was just a foster parent, was something else. But he could worry about that and its implications later (once Edward and his brother were safe and in his care).

“And his brother? Please, Riza-” He couldn’t imagine how devastated Edward would be if he found out they couldn’t get Alphonse.

“I’m working on it. I’m only one person, Roy.”

Roy huffed at the comment. “Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, cracking a smile. He turned off the highway an exit early, heading for the grocery store. They’d need food for the kid, and he was going to buy him some decent school supplies if it killed him. Maybe then, he’d take notes.

* * *

As soon as Ed had confirmed with Lan Fan that _yes_ , they should tell CPS the truth, he texted Al on the way home.

He knew the danger of it. There was a chance things wouldn’t work out, even _if_ Mustang was telling the truth about trying to help him, but he didn’t keep secrets from Al. He just couldn’t.

He smiled as he felt the phone buzz against his knee. Almost nervous, he waited a moment before opening it.

_What do you mean?? Sandra and Carl haven’t said anything about moving._

_behind the scenes stuff, al. dont tell them, ok? i think theyre still working on it._

_Okay!!_

Ed didn’t type back because there was so much to say, he didn’t know where to start. He imagined Al felt the same way, but the sudden quiet felt stiff and awkward, and Ed noticed the dots that meant Al was typing the second he began to reply.

 _Are they nice??_ Al said, the text coming in just as Ed sent his message _itll all work out._

 _dad’s okay. havent met mom_ Ed replied quickly.

_I know it will. And okay!!_

_it doesnt matter. even if they suck, we just need to be together, okay? ill figure the rest out._

_Are things better at your house?_

_nah, but all good. cps is coming today. will see what happens._

Al didn’t reply immediately after that, and Ed shut off his phone, looking out the window again. He didn’t want Al to worry about him, he had enough going on. He could handle it, he just...he just needed to keep everyone else out.

The phone finally buzzed again, and Ed looked down at it. A painful, longing sort of love stabbed at his chest.

_Miss you._

_miss u too, al. dw. ill figure it all out. want this to be last house for you._

_Will be last house for both of us._

_:) yes. will see._

* * *

When Ed walked up to the house, there was already a strange car out front. He stared at the door, then at the sidewalk, fighting a strong urge to run. He took a deep breath. No. He couldn’t leave Lan Fan alone with the kids. He had to tell the truth. Mustang had said everything would be fine, and Ed _had_ to believe him.

Euphoric about seeing Al again, Ed had forgotten about the implications for everyone else at the group home. Roy said it would be shut down, but Ed didn’t like the idea of the others staying there without him for a single day.

If Ed wasn’t there, then someone else would be picked on. He had a sinking feeling it would be Lan Fan, which carried all sorts of unpleasant implications (he’d seen the way that monster looked at her). A few days, a week, it didn’t matter. It was enough time for the others to be hurt, and that wasn’t acceptable.

He knew his best shot was making sure the truth came out in the interview. His foster parents had been furious when they’d found out CPS was coming, but they couldn’t lay a finger on any of them before the interview, and they knew it. So instead, they ordered pizza. Smiled for once, took care of the little ones. Bought cold medicine for Em.

Ed knew the treats and the care would end the second CPS left, but hell, it’d been nice while it lasted.

He stepped through the door, and immediately, all the adults seated at the kitchen table turned to look at him. He flashed them a grim smile, shuffling his shoes off.

“Hello! What’s your name?” the agent called with a wide smile. “I’m Mr. Wood.”

“Edward,” he replied, stepping over warily. He saw his foster parents’ faces pale as he drew closer.

“Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions?” Mr. Wood asked. Ed looked down at him.

The bruise from yesterday had faded slightly, and the swelling had gone down, but it was still visible. Ed could see the agent’s eyes widen as he fixated on it.

“Sure,” Ed said, stopping as he reached the table. Mr. Wood looked over at his foster parents.

“We’re going to go somewhere private, if that’s alright?” he said, but it wasn’t a question. The two nodded, and Ed followed Mr. Wood out to the back porch. The two sat down on a low bench with peeling varnish. Ed picked at it while the agent looked down at his papers.

“So, Edward,” Mr. Wood said. “How was your day at school?”

Edward’s throat tightened. The guy didn’t _really_ care, he was just trying to make small talk before he asked Ed who was hitting him. As his heart began to beat faster, Ed found himself picking more erratically at the varnish.

“Good,” he mumbled, because the truth didn’t matter. He just had to get this over with.

“Wonderful,” Mr. Wood replied, looking down at his papers. “Do you like your foster family, Edward?”

Ed clenched his hand into a fist, staring down at his lap. _No, no, NO, fuck them, fuck this-_

“Not really,” Ed muttered, not looking up.

“Can you tell me why?” the agent asked, his tone not changing. Clearly Ed’s answer wasn’t a surprise.

Ed sighed. “They don’t take care of the little kids,” he said, fighting the panic in his chest. “Lan Fan and I have to do it. We don’t _mind_ but it’s not...our job.”

“Lan Fan told me something similar,” Mr. Wood replied, and Ed immediately relaxed. At least he wasn’t completely alone in this. She’d told the truth, too, like they’d planned, like she’d wanted. That meant he couldn’t back down. He felt strangely brave.

“Yeah, she would,” he said, breaking the silence.

“She also told me that your foster parents hurt you,” the agent said, in that same, even tone. “Can you tell me about that?”

Ed felt anxiety flood into him like shadows, like something rotten that he just wanted to cut out. He dug his nails into his palm.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Uh...sometimes I get hit. When he gets mad.”

“By Mr. Jackson?”

Ed nodded in response, not eager to go into details, but doubting he’d be given the luxury of staying quiet.

“Is that where the bruise on your face came from?”

Ed nodded again. There was a muffled burst of sound from inside the house, some of the kids must have come running into the living room.

“Can you tell me about that?”

Of course. Ed let out a huff.

“It sucked,” he grumbled. What more did the guy need to know? He’d been _hit_ by his stupid foster dad. Call the police, get everyone out, the end.

Mr. Wood merely looked at him with a sympathetic expression, and Ed knew he wouldn’t accept that as an answer.

“I was in the kitchen and he came in and hit me,” Ed finally grumbled, moving to pick at the varnish again. “Happy?”

“Mr. Jackson said you fell,” Mr. Wood replied. “And that you fall often, given your disabilities.” Panic sparked in Ed’s eyes as he looked up at the man. If he didn’t believe Ed, then…

“That’s not true,” Ed snapped. “It’s not, it’s-”

“They informed me you have a history of telling stories like this,” the agent said, letting out a long sigh. “Edward. Why would you want to move homes? And put your foster family, your foster siblings, through all this?”

Every argument he could think of tangled up in his throat, and all he could feel was a sudden, beating fear. “I...I…”

“And you convinced your foster sister to lie for you? Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t!” he finally shouted, standing up. “It’s not, it’s-” God, he was shaking. _I want to go home,_ he thought, and then, _Do I even know what that means anymore?_

“How about we discuss this with them?” Mr. Wood said, standing up as well. Before Ed could sputter out a protest, the agent turned away and walked back into the house. Ed stared after him, frozen in terror, before finally following him inside.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? This _idiot_ didn’t believe him? But he’d been honest, Lan Fan too! What else were they supposed to do? If he stayed here...if he stayed here... _god,_ he couldn’t breathe, everything was closing in-

Without thinking, he moved to sit at the table. He stared down at the wood and ran his nails along the grain. He could hear the adults speaking, but it was all just a white fuzz. He mumbled replies when prompted, but all he could feel was a sudden, crushing panic.

He looked over his shoulder to see Lan Fan watching and listening. Her face was pale and her mouth was set in a grim line. Ed didn’t need to say a word. She knew what’d happened, and she knew what it meant. Resisting was pointless. This man had proven to them he didn’t care.

* * *

Finally, finally, Ed was alone. It was dark. Lan Fan had snuck him upstairs into her room, where all the kids were hiding out the aftershocks downstairs.

He held a tissue to his nose, leaning against one of the bunk beds. Em was snuggled against his side, little eyes wide, signing choppy, panicked phrases to him. Lan Fan had moved a bookcase up against the door, and was sitting against it, reading aloud to any of the kids who would listen. The older ones had an idea of what was happening and what had happened (despite their efforts to shield them, to get them out of the room, _upstairs now!_ ), and the thought made Edward sick to his stomach.

Everything was…blurred. His head _hurt_ , a thick pounding, and the phone in his pocket wouldn’t stop buzzing because Al was worried and Ed couldn’t answer him because he was right and.

Oh.

The number.

It all came rushing back, the day, the fact that he had his teacher’s number _in his phone_. Mustang had said they’d been looking into things, right? Maybe they could help. But. No. Mustang had told him to tell the truth, and look where that’d gotten him. Look where that’d gotten everyone. If he called him, what would he do?

_I’ll figure it out, okay?_

Trusting adults never led anywhere good, but-

_You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore._

Would it be so wrong to trust just this one?

* * *

 

The phone buzzed as the two were working through dinner. Roy started at the sound, having forgotten his phone was there, buried under the stack of tests. He fished around for it, only to squint in confusion when he finally found it. Unknown number? Oh shit, this was probably Edward, right?

“Hey, this is-”  
  
“Mustang?” a choked, whispered voice asked.

Immediately, Roy stood up, thrown into a frenzy of panic. He mouthed ‘Edward’ to Riza as she stared at him in confusion.

“Yes, yes, Edward?” he replied quickly, not wanting to leave any room for doubt.

“Yeah, look, uh,” Edward said, his frantic tone seemingly overtaken by anxiety. “You said to call? If something happened?”

“Did something happen?” he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

There was silence on the other end, ragged breathing. The panic in Roy’s chest seemed to double, he could hear his heartbeat in his throat, and all he could see was a dark, choking, anger.

“Yes,” Edward finally replied, and the noise sounded like it had been ripped from him. Something angry and reluctant, from behind clenched teeth.

Roy reached for his car keys, gesturing to Riza, who picked up her own phone and began to dial 911. “We’re coming. Don’t move. The address?”

“Uh…” Edward said, suddenly sounding like a dazed, confused kid (the _kid_ he was supposed to be). “It’s Poplar. 18 Poplar Avenue.”

“Alright. The police are coming, we’re coming, we won’t let you stay there,” he said in a fierce tone as he ran out to the car. Black Hayate whined in confusion as Riza locked the front door, still explaining the situation to the operator (“no, he’s not my son, he’s my husband’s student, he’s in danger, you have to go, no, he’s hurt-”).

“Okay, okay,” Edward said in a nasally voice, as if he was stuffed up. Roy could hear a small child whining on the other end.

“We’ll get everyone out,” Roy assured as the car’s engine rumbled to life. “Don’t worry, just…” What did he say? How did he fix this?

“I heard you the first hundred times,” Edward said snarkily, and Roy found himself smiling despite everything.

“Thanks.”

The word was whispered, probably so the other children couldn’t hear it, but god, it was so simple and mundane and _sad,_ such a sad word, it turned Roy’s stomach. He should never have to thank someone for something like this, something so basic, so deserved...fuck.

Roy would pull Edward out of this hell. No matter the cost.

* * *

By the time Roy and Riza pulled up, the police were already there. He could see the lights the second they turned onto the street. The front lawn was swarming with people.

As soon as they parked, the two rushed out of their car and onto the scene. Police came up to them, but Riza began to rapidly explain things, flashing ID and speaking in the clipped, rapid tone that she only used when she was speaking down to someone or when she was furious. Roy heard the term “emergency care” thrown around by the officer, only to have Riza snap about a “planned home transfer” anyways, and then she was on her phone again, pacing and looking like she wanted to rip the officer’s head off.

She’d figure it out if it killed her. Roy knew it.

Roy looked over at the police cars and spotted a man in the back of one, and a handcuffed woman being talked to on the curb. He felt his heart catch with a sudden, stabbing, _fury._ He turned towards the house (towards things he could change, he reminded himself), and stepped inside.

“Edward?” he called, and a door opened. Roy turned and saw golden hair in a cracked doorway.

“Oh hey,” Edward said, turning away as he opened the door to let Roy in. “They, uh, told us to pack.” He shuffled awkwardly away.

Roy stepped into the tiny space and glanced around at the room that had been Edward’s home.

Clothing and books were stuffed into his school book bag, and Roy had no idea how they were going to zip the thing up. The rest of his stuff was in a garbage bag on the floor. Shoes, more clothing, papers, (Roy could see the red of the sweatshirt Edward wore every day to school). All the kid had, in a backpack and a garbage bag.

It made Roy sick.

“Want help?” he asked, moving to take down a painstakingly hand-drawn periodic table from the kid’s wall. Edward grunted in response, but it didn’t sound like a no.

As Roy pulled the makeshift poster down and began to carefully roll it up, he glanced over at Edward. The kid was sitting on the bed, clutching desperately at the blanket there, seeming to seek some sort of comfort (and fuck, the thing wasn’t even his to take).

Roy moved to sit down besides him. Edward didn’t look up.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, and the words felt stiff, somehow. Wrong, because the answer was no, but Roy didn’t know what else to ask. But he needed to know if the bastard had touched him again. The kid still hadn’t faced him and Roy had a sinking feeling there was a reason.

Edward finally let out an amused huff. “Sure,” he muttered sarcastically, finally looking over at Roy with a dark, tired look in his eyes.

Now Roy could see it. The blood still crusting his upper lip, nose swollen and yellowed by bruising. It was taped, probably by paramedic. It would heal, but it had _happened_ and that was unacceptable.

Roy had half a mind to smash open the window of the police car so he could strangle the man who’d given it to Edward himself. What anger, what arrogance, what...delusion made someone think they could hurt a child?

 _Hurt a child? How many children have your bombs killed? Were their eyes just like Edward’s, their hands, shaking, shoulders stiff with fear -_ but no, that was different. Different. It had to be.

“We told the truth,” he said, and every word was bare bones - nothing more than its syllables, and the haunting monotone of it chilled Roy to his core. “To CPS. He said we were lying. And he left.” Edward looked down at his lap. “He _left.”_

Roy was going to murder the CPS agent, or, at the very least, make sure Riza got him fired. He exhaled sharply, struggling to stay calm.

“I know.”

“And then-” Edward’s voice shook and his hand clutched the blankets tighter. “They were so... _mad_ …”

“I know.” He didn’t, but he said it anyways.

“They grabbed Lan Fan, and the others were _crying_ , and I was so scared, and I d-didn’t want to. I didn’t want to. S-she’s my friend and I didn’t w-want to help her but I did, I h-had to, I was so...so…”

Roy hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down Edward’s cheeks until they caught in the light and shone clear and bright. Roy moved closer to him, hesitant to touch him after everything that had happened, but unable to bear the sight of him sitting there, sobbing and alone.

“I s-set him off. I y-yelled at him, so he let g-go of her,” Edward choked. “And then he…”

Roy moved, wrapping Edward tightly in his arms. Edward shook against him, tears soaking into Roy’s shirt, snot mixing with the blood in his nose. Roy held him, rocking him against his chest, and Edward clutched onto his shirt. How the kid could trust him, an adult, after _everything,_ mystified Roy, but he wasn’t about to question it.

After what felt like an eternity, Edward finally shifted away, wiping at his nose with a wince. He glared up at Roy with a bratty, irritated look that clearly meant ‘don’t tell’.

“It’s all good,” Roy assured. “C’mon. Let’s get your stuff. You’re coming home with me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a disclaimer, I don’t consider this CPS agent to be at all comptent. In my mind, the agent was either very bad at his job to the point where he should be fired, or was paid off by the family (yes I am the author and yes I don’t know for sure don’t shout at me). Don’t consider him to be a representation of all CPS agents! They do a lot of great work.
> 
> Also - I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’ve decided just to make OCs then put random people from the series in unimportant roles.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so so much for all the sweet kudos and comments, they make me so happy you guys <3\. Thanks again to Rilie and Louise for betaing!

Roy led Edward out into the chaos, holding his trash bag of belongings in one hand and Ed’s hand in the other. He weaved around all the people, finally slowing when he reached Riza. 

She flashed Edward a thin smile when she spotted them (god, did she look tired, and angry still, he could see it in her shoulders). Edward smiled weakly back. 

“So, you married  _ him,  _ huh?” Edward said in an almost sympathetic tone, pointing at Roy behind him with a jerk of his thumb. 

“Yes, I did,” she replied, her smile widening and the tension in her shoulders seeming to relax. “Unfortunate, isn’t it?” 

“Hey!” Roy protested halfheartedly. “What is this mutiny?” 

Riza ignored him and he let out an annoyed grumble. Instead she stepped forward, holding out a hand to Edward. 

“Riza Hawkeye-Mustang.” 

Edward took her hand, shaking it. “Edward Elric,” he replied, his smile widening ever so slightly as he looked up at her. Mustang felt a twinge of respect for the kid. Riza had gotten a lot of shit for both keeping her name and taking Roy’s, but Edward didn’t mention it at all.  _ Someone _ must’ve been a good influence on him.

Riza turned to look at them both. “It’s all set,” she said. “He can come home with us.” Roy looked to meet her eyes, and the responding gaze told of a battle fought and won. He smiled at her, and she nodded in return. There was no need for an explanation of ‘how’.

Edward looked back at Roy, brows furrowed in worry. “But, the others,” he said. “What about-”

“Emergency foster care,” Riza said. “Don’t worry. I know the homes, and no one’s going anywhere alone, okay?” 

Edward looked back at Riza, staring at her warily, before sighing and nodding slowly. “Alright,” he grumbled. He didn’t seem happy about it, but there wasn’t anything else Roy and Riza could do, and Edward seemed to accept the reality of the situation.

Roy and Riza took Edward’s bags and loaded them into the car, while Edward went to say goodbye to everyone. Roy leaned against the car as he finished, staring up at the sky. Should he go to work tomorrow? Crafting a sub plan wouldn’t take too long, and it might be worth it to take a day off. He could probably swing an excused absence for Edward, if he wanted some R&R, too. He’d have to ask. School was normal, for the kid, and his life had just been turned upside down. 

“Thanks,” he said, glancing at Riza. She smiled in response, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. 

“No problem,” she murmured as she pulled away. “Now, I just need to get his brother.” 

Oh. Right. Roy had almost completely forgotten about Edward’s brother. The look on Edward’s face when Roy had said they were going to be reunited...fuck, he had to get them in the same house. He just had to. 

“And then we’ll have two kids,” he found himself saying. Kids. In his house. Sure, he worked with them every day, and so did Riza, but actually parenting? That was new and terrifying.

Riza looked over at him and smirked. “We’ll figure it out,” she replied, opening the car door as she spotted Edward approaching. Roy moved to climb into the passenger seat, and he heard Edward slide into the back and shut the door behind him. 

Roy looked back at him, and Edward met the gaze, staring at him with wide eyes as Riza pulled into a three-point and drove away from the house that had caused him so pain. 

On the way home, Edward broke the awkward silence that was Riza staring furiously ahead as she silently planned how to get the CPS agent fired, and Roy internally debating the pros and cons of taking a day off work. 

“Uh...just so you know,” he muttered. “I haven’t eaten? Since lunch at school.” 

Roy turned around to look at him. “Shit, uh...so you’re hungry?” 

“Yeah?” Edward said, looking confused and anxious. “I mean, if you’ve got food at home, I can eat that, if you’re okay with it.” 

“Of course, but don’t you want something more-” 

He felt the car shift, and spotted an exit sign flash by as Riza turned off the highway. 

“Do you have any dietary restrictions?” Riza asked in a deadpan, still staring straight forward. 

“No?” Edward replied, still seeming confused. Roy was right there with him. He wanted to warn him that Riza wasn’t always like this, but he wasn’t sure how, with her  _ right  _ there.

Riza didn’t speak again. Bright signs streaked by: gas stations, chain restaurants, supermarkets. 

Riza turned into the first fast food place they came across. “What do you want?” she asked Edward. He quickly turned to look at the menu, staring at it for a long time. He looked over at the two with a quick, frantic jerk. 

“Whatever I want?” he asked with a hopeful, yet guarded expression.

“Yes,” Roy said, fishing around in the car for his wallet. “It’s cheap, get whatever you want, as much as you want. Really.” 

Even in the dark of the car, Roy could see Edward’s face light up. 

They ended up getting two cheeseburgers with everything for Ed, a large fry, a milkshake that was insultingly large, and two coffees. Usually they tried not to eat in the car, but neither one of them was going to deny Edward his very belated meal.

When they got home, all that was left was the last few slurps of his milkshake.

Black Hayate loved Edward. He nuzzled up to him and refused to leave him alone, despite how many times Riza called him back. Edward said it was fine, and he knelt down to let Black Hayate sniff his face and lick his hand. 

Roy carried Edward’s bags into the room they’d set up for him. The shower had a ledge to sit on and a railing, so he’d be able to use it safely. The room wasn’t huge, considering two boys would be sharing it, but there was enough room for bunk beds, two desks, a dresser, and a bookcase. It had been kept ready yet vacant, mostly used a guest room, until now.

He heard the door creak open, and the pitter patter of Black Hayate’s paws. Edward followed after the dog. He glanced around the room. 

“Once Al’s here,” Roy said quickly. “You’ll be sharing with him. I hope that’s alright.” 

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” Edward said, looking at the room in wonder. “This is awesome.” He sat down on the lower bunk. 

“We’ll improve it,” Roy said quickly. “If you need anything, for accessibility, just let us know, okay?” 

Edward shrugged. “Eh, I really just need a downstairs room and a shower with a seat,” he said. “I wear my prosthetic pretty much all the time, so it’s not hard to get around.”

That’s all the kid needed? Those were the special needs he was separated from his brother for? That Edward had been stuck in that hell for? Had anyone bothered to ask Edward what accommodations he needed, or had they simply assumed he was incapable because of his missing limbs? Roy clenched his hands into fists, and attempted to keep his expression calm, but when he looked over at Edward’s face, he knew he had failed. 

The kid was pale, staring at him with glassy eyes. Fuck.  _ I’m not mad at you,  _ he wanted to scream.  _ How could anyone ever be mad at you right now?  _

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, looking away. “It’s not you, it’s…” He figured it’d be better to simply change the topic. “Do you want to go to school tomorrow?” 

Edward looked baffled, as if the topic hadn’t crossed his mind, and Roy couldn’t blame him. However, confusion was better than fear, and the kid’s eyes weren’t glazed over anymore, thank goodness, so it was an improvement. 

“I’d understand if you don’t want to, I’m on the fence about it myself,” Roy admitted. “It’s been one hell of a day.” 

“We should go,” Edward said after a long moment of silent thought. “It’ll be good, for me. And for you, too. Probably.” He looked down at his lap, nervously fiddling with the blanket. 

“Are you sure?”

Edward nodded. 

“Alright, then. I leave at seven o’clock. Sorry about that. There’s a bus near here that picks up around seven-twenty, I think, if you want the extra time, but you’ll have to walk, and…” He didn’t want to say Edward  _ couldn’t _ walk, but he didn’t like the idea of him walking alone for a long distance. 

“Nah, seven’s fine,” he said. “Used to getting up earlier, it’s all good.” 

“Okay, well get some sleep, okay?” Roy said. “If you need anything our room is upstairs, but I’ll leave my phone on so you can text if you need, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Riza’s stressed,” Roy said, suddenly remembering the thoughts he’d had in the car. “She’s usually not like this.” 

“What’s she usually like?” Edward asked curiously. 

“Uh,” Roy muttered, because how did he describe Riza? “More talkative? No, more attentive. She’s just...worried, about you and your brother.” 

At the mention of his brother, Edward perked up. “Al?” he said. “You’re getting him, right?” 

“That’s Riza’s department,” Roy replied. “Trust me. She’s doing all she can.” He couldn’t speak for Riza, he couldn’t promise yet, but he could promise they would try until there were no options left to them (and he would, he would, fuck, this family deserved to be complete).

“Good,” Edward said, letting out a long sigh. Black Hayate stepped over to him, and he reached down to pet the dog’s head. “I haven’t seen Al in months.” 

Roy looked up at him in shock. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” Edward answered, not looking up. “They say they’ll do visits, but...my foster family never wanted to drive, and then when they could drive, it wouldn’t line up with Al’s family’s schedule, and…” He huffed. “Here we are.” 

Roy didn’t know what to say. Edward’s situation was all sorts of fucked up - how could words make that better?    
  
“I...just…” Edward clenched his hand into a fist. “He gets anxious without me, I  _ know  _ it. And he’s had issues with bullies at his school, and I can’t do a damn thing about  _ that,  _ and he keeps being moved. He’s had three houses in four years and it needs to stop. He shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. I want custody of him when I’m eighteen, but…” He looked over at Roy. “I know it’s a big deal, but you should think about adopting Al. You’d like him, he’s...he’s sweet, and quiet, and he’s so good at chemistry, and-” 

“Edward,” Roy interrupted, wanting to distract him from thoughts that seemed to be harmful. Edward looked up at him with a stunned expression on his face. What was the phrase? Deer in headlights? “This’ll be the last home, okay? Until you’re adopted, or until you age out.” 

He should answer Edward about the adoption, he deserved to know, but Roy just...couldn’t think about that tonight. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Being a parent? Was he ready to hypothetically fuck a kid up? Technically this kid was already in his house, but the situation was supposed to temporary. The pressure wasn’t quite as crushing as the thought of adopting him. Yes, Ed and his brother were past their formative years, but there was still a fuckton of damage Roy could do. Did he want to be responsible for that? 

Edward nodded, not questioning his silence about adopting Al, and Roy was grateful.

“Alright, well, you good?” Roy said awkwardly, glancing around the room. “There’s some basic toiletries in the bathroom. I’ll take you to CVS or something tomorrow to pick out what else you want, okay?” 

Edward nodded again. The quiet was strange, but not unexpected - it had been a long day. 

Roy turned to leave. “Goodnight, Edward,” he called. 

“It’s Ed,” he said, in a quiet voice. “I go by Ed.” 

Roy smiled, not looking back. “Alright. Goodnight, then, Ed.” 

“Goodnight.” 

* * *

Ed woke up at six am and at first, he had no idea where he was. Once he’d gotten his bearings (calmed the anxious wheezing that was his breath), he shuffled out of of bed. He pulled on his prosthetic and sleepily went to brush his teeth. He could hear noise outside his door - the beeping of a coffee maker, the shuffle of footsteps, and he knew Mustang (or should he be calling him Roy? Ew. Weird.) was up too.

After he got dressed and brushed his hair (somewhat), Ed stepped out into the living room. He glanced around curiously, attempting to tread lightly on his prosthetic out of habit. 

“Morning,” he heard Mustang call from the kitchen, and he stiffened at the sound. “We’ve got cereal, yogurt, and I think there’s some toaster waffles in the back of the freezer.” 

Ed stared over at him, his breath catching in his chest as he was suddenly addressed.  _ It’s not like that, _ he reminded himself.  _ He believed you. They believed you. _ He forced himself to step into the kitchen. 

“Cereal’s good,” Ed said, looking around at the cabinets, but still not meeting Mustang’s gaze. His nose ached, but he knew there was nothing they could do for it. It was just going to suck for a while.

“Alright, sit down. I’ll grab it,” Mustang said, and awkwardly, Ed shuffled over to the table, moving aside newspapers and dirty plates to clear out a spot for himself. God, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten food for him.

“Where’s Riza?” Ed asked, finally looking over at Mustang to nod at the box of granola he held up. 

“At work,” Mustang said, pouring out the cereal. He opened the fridge and reached for a carton of milk. 

“Ick, no,” Ed said, shaking his head vigorously. “With yogurt.”

Mustang grabbed the yogurt instead and set both down on the table. “You don’t like  _ milk _ ?” he asked curiously.

“Ew. No way,” Ed said, reaching for the bowl. He spooned globs of yogurt into the bowl, mixing it in with the granola. 

“Did you sleep alright?” Roy asked, looking up from his coffee. 

_ Huh. Weird question _ . “Yeah, pretty good,” he said, glancing up at Mustang, and then quickly back down at his food.

“Well, that’s good,” Mustang replied, looking awkward as well. At least Ed wasn’t the only one who thought this was weird. How the hell was he going to live with his teacher? Noting the time, he began to scarf down the yogurt, realizing they had to move quickly. 

Mustang sat down besides him, setting a cup of coffee down on the table. “How’s your nose?” 

“Alright,” Ed said in between hurried bites. He hated the idea of going to school with his nose looking like this, there’d be no way to hide it and he was bound to get awkward looks all day, but it was better than sitting in a strange house, alone. Or worse, with his teacher. 

“I’ve got some ibuprofen, for the swelling,” Mustang said, sliding a pill bottle towards him. “Do you want an icepack? Or anything?” 

Ed shook his head. It’d just draw more attention to him. 

“Alright. Well, Riza’s going to a meeting today about your brother. She’ll call me as soon as she knows anything, and I’ll find you, okay?” Roy said. 

Ed perked up at that, nodding eagerly in response. He’d have news today? Thank fuck. The waiting was killing him. 

With all the chaos, Ed hadn’t been able to process...anything that’d happened. He’d cried. In front of Mustang. Like, a lot. Total meltdown. And now he...lived with him? 

And Mustang wasn’t treating him any differently? He’d believed him and somehow gotten him and everyone else out of that hellhole, gotten his piece of shit foster parents arrested, and let Ed stay at his house. And he was trying to bring Alphonse here, if he was telling the truth, and Ed had to believe he was. He couldn’t believe that someone would lie about something this important. Not this. Not yet. 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually tried to help him. Like, actually asked what he needed, and then done their best to do that. His instincts screamed that it was all an act and that once the honeymoon phase ended, everything would be awful again, but fuck, he didn’t want to believe that. He really, really didn’t want to. 

He wasn’t in a position to take a risk like this, to trust when he wasn’t sure where it would lead, but Mustang...Mustang had believed him. He’d believed him and the CPS agent hadn’t. 

It was enough, he supposed, for now. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think it’s “cursed” to eat granola with yogurt screw you my roommate eats it like every morning.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So sorry this took so long, but I actually don't have much of the next chapter written, so no promises on when it'll be out. I've lost a bit of inspiration for this but I swear I am going to try and give this the ending it deserves! I know it says seven chapters, but I can only see one more chapter, and I don't know when it will be out. 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my cat Lena because she's sitting on my lap right now and I love her so much. Here's a link to her amazon wishlist I have no pride or shame http://a.co/0crh8zS 
> 
> Thanks to Louise and Riley for betaing!

If Roy thought it was weird having Ed at his house, then it was even weirder having him in class. He tried not to stare, merely glancing up from the tests he was grading as the kid stepped into the room. Ed smiled thinly at him before settling down in his regular desk.

All Roy had to do was act like this was a normal class. Just...act like everything was normal, get through his notes, and then he’d be fine.

For once, he left his phone on and in his pocket as he stood up to start the class. Riza’s meeting was ending soon, and she’d promised to call afterwards. Roy never answered phone calls during his classes unless it was an absolute emergency, but he was making an exception. He just couldn’t stand the waiting.

He didn’t call on Ed that class. The kid was already getting weird looks because of his nose, and he didn’t want to draw further attention to him.

He was half-heartedly explaining electron configurations when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

“Uh, excuse me,” he said, pulling out the phone and seeing it was Riza. “I need to take this. Start the practice problems, work together.” He picked up the call and immediately stepped out of the classroom.

“”Riza?” he said, leaning against the lockers.

He heard the door open and looked down to see Ed. Roy opened his mouth to protest, but Ed simply glared back. _The kid was too smart for his own good_ , Roy thought, as he put the phone on speaker.

“Roy,” Riza answered, her voice seeming to echo in the hallway. “I just got out of-”

“Did you get Al?” Ed interrupted, reaching for the phone. Roy held it high so Ed couldn’t grab it.

“Edward’s there?” Riza asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly invite him,” Roy replied, still holding up the phone as Ed reached for it. “Stop! She’ll tell us, okay?”

“Stop what?” Riza asked just as Roy lowered the phone. Ed moved closer to speak into it.

“Did you get my brother?” he asked, in a quick, desperate tone.

There was a long silence (or maybe it was a short one, for that moment, everything seemed to freeze), and then-

“Yes. He’s being moved. We’re going to pick him up tonight.”

Roy nearly dropped the phone. Ed let out a ragged gasp, slumping against the lockers and sinking down to the floor. Roy moved to sit beside him and saw tears on his face.

“Everything alright?” Riza asked.

“We’re okay. Let me call you back later,” he said, hanging up after her quick hum of acknowledgement.

Roy moved to wrap an arm around Ed, very slowly resting his hand on the kid’s shoulder. To his surprise, Ed turned and buried his face in Roy’s chest, openly sobbing. Taking the contact as consent, Roy pulled him close.

"This is _good_ news,” Roy said in a gentle, teasing tone, but really, he didn’t blame Ed at all for crying. The news had to be a real shock. Roy was just glad the tears were of joy. Ed had experienced enough misery for a lifetime.

“I kn-now,” Ed hiccuped, gasping for breath. “I just c-can’t believe...it’s been...so _long_ …”

And there was that anger again, thrumming strong in his chest. Four years. Ed hadn’t lived with his brother for four years. Even reuniting the brothers now wouldn’t change that. What they were doing was just damage control.

“I know,” Roy comforted. “It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. We’ll go and get Al tonight, okay?”

Ed just nodded into his shirt. He was crying more quietly now, but Roy could still see fresh tears trickling down his cheeks. The last thing Ed needed was class right now. Roy only had one period left to teach. He could ask Gracia to sit in on his class during her planning.

“Do you want to leave?” Roy asked. “We can go shopping. Get groceries for the two of you, clothes, toiletries, whatever you guys need.”

If Ed wanted to stay, then Roy would stay, but fuck, Roy really, really didn’t want to be at work right now.

“Y-yeah,” Ed mumbled. “Let’s do that.”

 _Good_ , Roy thought, as he helped Edward stand up. His class was nearly over, all he needed was to find Ed somewhere to sit away from the prying eyes of his classmates until the bell, and then they could leave.

“Can you go to the lounge?” Roy asked. “I’ll bring you your stuff, and then we can go.”

Ed nodded, and Roy squeezed his shoulder before he let go of it. He turned back into the classroom, opting to ignore the students who were clearly on their phones or already packed. The bell rang in five minutes.

“You can go,” he said, and immediately everyone rushed for the door. One or two students murmured about hoping everything was okay as they left, and Roy quickly reassured them. He stepped over to Ed’s desk, shoving his books into his bag. In his hurry, the kid had left his phone behind. Roy could see missed texts from…”leetol shit bro”. He imagined that was Al. Ugh, one of the drawbacks of being around kids was that it made him feel old.

When he’d finally gathered up all his stuff and confirmed Gracia was able to sub, he stepped out of his room to find Ed standing impatiently in the hallway. He spotted his phone in Roy’s hand and grabbed for it before Roy could say a word, snatching it away.

“You left it,” Roy defended, handing Ed the bag. Ed somehow managed to pull it over his shoulder without putting his phone away.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t take it,” Ed said, glancing up at him with a guarded expression.

“I’m not going to,” Roy replied, turning and starting to walk down the hallway. Usually, he’d make some sort of comment about the kid’s apparent addiction, but hell. That was the one form of contact he had with his brother. Roy wasn’t about to belittle it, or make Ed think for a second he was going to cut him off. “Although, you’ll be able to speak to...little shit bro? In person soon enough.”

Ed looked up at him with a bright grin. “Aw come on. Say it. Lee-tol.”

“I’m not saying that,” Roy said, slowing as they approached the front desk. He leaned down to sign Ed out of school. Fuck, it felt weird signing under “parent/guardian”.

Ed simply snorted at him. “Coward,” he huffed, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Roy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be annoyed. If Ed was teasing, then he was feeling better. He was already acting more like the rambunctious, annoying kid that had driven Roy insane for months. Ed deserved this. He deserved to be a stupid kid, and fuck, Roy was going to make that happen.

* * *

Ed scarfed down his entire plate of Panda Express while Roy could only watch in mixed awe and horror. How was he so small? He ate like an elephant. Was it some sort of survival mechanism, resulting from food deprivation? Or was his stomach just that bottomless? Hopefully, once Ed settled into a routine, he’d at least _slow down,_ because people were staring and Roy didn’t know how he was done eating in a matter of minutes.

Roy gave Ed his fortune cookie and the plastic crinkled as Ed unwrapped it in the car. He cracked it open, gobbling up the cookie and then looking at the paper. Ed’s had read _Jealousy is unattractive - show some other emotion._ He had angrily crumpled it up and grumbled about it all being bogus.

“Yours is... _well done is better than well said,_ ” Ed read out. “What the hell? That’s advice, not a fortune, and all mine did was insult me!”

Roy smirked at him. “Ah, well, you can’t deny its powers, Ed,” he teased. “You’re clearly _jealous_ of my fortune.”

Ed turned bright red at that and crushed Roy’s fortune in his fist. “That’s...that’s not....it doesn’t...ugh!” he shouted, turning to look out the window. Roy burst into laughter. He felt bad, sort of, but the kid really had brought it on himself.

“So,” Roy said, when Ed finally seemed ready to talk to him again. “Shopping? I don’t think you’ve got that many clothes, and I don’t know what Al’s going to come with.”

Ed shrugged in response. “We can stop at Goodwill,” he said. “I’ve got enough, though, it’s no big deal.”

“That’s not what I was thinking,” Roy said, turning into an outlet mall. “Do you know Al’s size?”

They spent hours in that mall; store hopping, sitting in dressing rooms, taking photos of outfits to ask Al’s opinion. They left the mall with arms full of shopping bags, and Roy had breathed a sigh of relief when his card hadn’t been declined. The last thing he needed was for Ed to see _that._

As they drove home, Ed looked over at him from his phone. “Al wants to know if you have orange juice,” he said. “Well, he actually told me not to ask, but he’s still worried about it.”

“We don’t,” Roy said. He and Riza just drank coffee in the mornings. “I’ll stop to get some. What else does he want?”

Ed typed rapidly, and then huffed. “He’s embarrassed. But he’s writing out a list.”

“Good,” Roy said. He wanted the two to be comfortable, and having routines disrupted was scary. If Al drank orange juice every morning at his current home, then he’d be able to do so at theirs, too. “Figure out what you want as well.”

“Sure, sure,” Ed replied breezily, waving him off. “Outta school and you’re still giving me homework.”

“Do you want me to guess? Because I’ll feed you all sorts of vegetables,” Roy threatened, and Ed snorted but didn’t answer.

In the store, Ed ended up calling Al in the cereal aisle. He claimed it was because his instructions were too vague, but honestly, Roy suspected he just wanted an excuse to talk to him.

The first time Roy heard Alphonse Elric speak, his words were warped by the phone’s speaker. His soft, sweet voice sounded distant, echoed, but it pulled at his heartstrings. Ed shoved the phone into his hands, yelling at him to say hi before running off to grab the brand Al wanted.

“Hello,” Roy said awkwardly, having absolutely no idea what to say.

“Hi,” Al replied, seeming to be in exactly the same boat.

Neither of them spoke for a long, awkward minute. Ed grabbed the phone back and began chattering away about the cereal, rolling the cart into the next aisle while Roy hustled after him, yelling at him to stop.

One knocked over and hastily reassembled display later, they were (finally) headed home. Ed was curled up in the front seat, leaning sleepily against the window. Roy pulled into the driveway and began to bring the shopping bags into the house. Ed managed to get half of the grocery bags in one trip. How, Roy had no clue. Sheer willpower, he supposed.

They unpacked the food together in a comfortable sort of silence that was only interrupted when Ed asked where something was supposed to go. Roy found himself constantly checking the time, and he was certain Ed was doing the same. They were supposed to get Al at seven. Riza was coming home around five-thirty, and they were going to leave at six.

Five. Five-fifteen. Roy turned on the TV and flicked through the channels until he found something that kept Ed’s attention. Five-thirty, and Black Hayate ran to greet Riza at the door.

She looked absolutely exhausted. Roy rose to greet her, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close and pressing his forehead against hers. She let out a long, low sigh, and shut her eyes, and for a long moment, they stood there. Black Hayate whining at their feet, the distant sound of Ed’s survival show playing in the background, the clock ticking down the minutes until they went to finish their strange, difficult, mission. For a moment, it was just them.

And then it wasn’t, and Roy wasn’t at all sorry.

* * *

The ride to Al’s house was the longest car ride of Ed’s life.

He tried listening to music on the way. He tried talking to Mustang and Hawkeye, hell, he’d even been reduced to looking out the window and counting the lamp posts as they blurred past before he’d been forced to stop at twenty-two, because _fuck_ was that boring.

Now he was simply staring at the GPS, listening to the robot lady give Mustang directions. Al’s family lived in some maze of a suburb. He couldn’t take his eyes off the stupid little dot that was him, and the goofy little flag that was Al. Every second, they got closer, and his heart was beating so fast he felt like he was going to throw up.

Finally, finally, finally, Mustang turned into a driveway and the dot met the flag.

Ed threw open the car door the second the car jolted to a stop, ignoring everything but that house. The door opened, and there was a woman there. Mustang was besides him, clutching his shoulder, walking up the path with him, and then, and then, beside the woman-

There was a blur of motion. Ed lunged forward, somehow managing to run two great strides forward on his shitty leg. He saw Al’s face in the dim light, saw his cheeks streaked with tears, and he wrapped him in the tightest hug he could manage with one arm. Al latched onto him like a starfish, sobbing into his shirt. Ed found himself stroking Al’s hair, running his hand down his shoulders, his back, because he was real. He was here, right here, in his arms. And for the first time since their mother had died, he was here to stay.

There was talking. Ed didn’t care about any of it. He noticed Hawkeye carrying a duffel bag, and Al’s foster mom handing her a sheet of paper. He caught “we’ve been doing a strict eleven o’clock bedtime” and “he really is the sweetest boy”, and felt a deep rush of gratitude that he’d been the one stuck in a shitty home. At least Al’d had some sort of normal, even if this was just another in a long line of homes.

Al looked up at him, finally beginning to untangle himself. “B-brother,” he hiced, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Ed knew that if he spoke, he’d burst into tears. His throat was painfully tight, and he could already feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He rapidly blinked them away, nodding in response. He knew. Al knew. There weren’t words for this, and they didn’t need to find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a good time to say that I intended this fic to be backstory for modern AUs? So if you write a modern AU and want to use this fic as the backstory, let me know! I'll make a series. I do reserve the right to reject fics based on content but omg please feel free to write continuations of this!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first off, I'm so sorry this took so long. Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, because I've never had this many people care about one of my stories before and I think I was terrified of disappointing you guys. I know it's a dumb reason, but...well hey it's here now! I can't tell you how much I've loved your comments over the past few months. Each and every one of them kept me writing, I truly mean that. This chapter is for Rilie, who encouraged me to write the first draft, who betaed every chapter but this one (because it's a belated secret santa surprise!), and who listened to me ramble on and on about ideas about this fic. I don't think I'll write much more for FMA, at least not in the near future. I've got other projects I want to work on that were put on hold because of this. But who knows what the future holds? So happy 2019 to all of you, and sincerely, truly, thank you, reader. I wouldn't have made it this far without your support.

Al managed to stop crying in time to say goodbye to his foster family and talk to Roy and Riza, but he didn’t manage much more than a choked introduction. They seemed nice enough, like they understood, and he was grateful.

Al was always the lucky one, the one who got the nice homes while Ed had to live with awful people who hurt him. Al had felt so  _ helpless,  _ but now it seemed like they both were lucky. Finally, after all this time, they could live together. And Al didn’t know what else to do but cry.

He played Animal Crossing Pocket Camp on the way home, leaning across the median and showing his campsite to Ed, who seemed perfectly content to listen as Al explained his setup and introduced him to all his favorite villagers. He quickly moved onto Neko Atsume (or “that cat game”, as Ed called it), and Ed had just finished redecorating his yard as they pulled into the driveway. 

Al held his hand as they walked into the house, Roy carrying his duffel while Riza unlocked the front door. Their dog, (Ed introduced him as Black Hataye) immediately jumped on Al, despite Riza’s calls of “down”. Al grinned as he sat down to pet him. He got to live with a dog? Black Hayate licked Al’s face as Al stroked his fur. 

“You’ll be sharing a room with your brother,” Roy called over Black Hayate’s joyful barks. “I hope that’s alright.”

Of course that was alright! But before he could say anything, Ed spoke up, looking down at Al with a bright expression. “It’s a bunk bed, Al,” he said, and Al stared up at him with wide eyes. He scrambled to his feet.

“Who gets top?” he asked, running after Ed as he sprinted towards their room.

“You do, dummy!” Ed called, throwing open the door to their room. 

Oh. Right. That made sense. Black Hayate ran alongside them playfully and Al scrambled up to the top bunk. They had always wanted bunk beds. He swung his head down to look at the lower bunk.

“We can make forts!” 

“Yeah!” Ed called, helping Roy with Al’s bags. “Do you have any homework left?” 

“Nope! Finished it all,” he said cheerfully. Ed smiled at him and Al felt like he would melt from the warmth of his pride. 

“Are you hungry?” Roy asked, and Al stared at him for a long moment before nervously shaking his head. He noticed that Roy and his brother were starting to unpack his clothes, so he climbed down to help. 

“Well, I know you are,” Roy said, looking over at Ed. “I think we’ve got some mac n’cheese. Sound alright to you?” 

Ed nodded, grabbing Al’s hand as he shuffled over to him. “Yep, sounds great,” he replied.

Roy left the room, and Al looked over at Ed.

“Don’t worry, he’s nice,” Ed assured quickly, continuing to unpack Al’s suitcase. “Mom’s nice too.”

“Why did they do this?” Al asked, looking over at him with a shocked expression. “He’s your teacher, right? Why are they helping?”    


“I don’t know,” Ed admitted, but he was grinning. His nose was taped and his face was bruised, but he looked happier than Al had seen him in years. “But I’m not gonna ask questions. This’ll be the last house, Al, I promise. I won’t let them move you again.”   


Al shook his head in response. “I don’t care where we are, brother,” he replied. “As long as we’re together.” He couldn’t do this anymore. Living without Ed, having no one who understood the anxiety that settled in his stomach and filled him up with bad feelings, no one to sit with him and tell him stories to distract him. There was only so much Ed could do over the phone, and Al wanted him here. Together, they could keep each other safe. 

Ed sighed, looking up at Al with a weary, content expression. “I know,” he replied, and he seemed almost sad about it. “I feel the same way.”

Roy called Ed out for dinner and Al followed, anxious to remain at his side. Ed curled up on the sofa as he ate his mac n’ cheese, and Al snuggled against him, half watching the Harry Potter marathon Roy had flipped to.

Box mac n’ cheese, Harry Potter, and a stranger. It was the happiest night of Al’s life.

* * *

Ed and Roy are sitting on the living room floor folding laundry. Riza’s at work and Al’s at a friend’s house, because Al has friends. House Hunters or something is on, and every now and then, Ed will pay attention to it. It’s the middle of summer and Roy has a tutoring appointment in an hour. He goes to several a day, because either money’s tighter than Ed realizes or he has a secret gambling addiction. Who’s to say.

Ed’s folding a pair of Al’s pajama pants and all he can feel is a tragic sort of anger, because this is perfect. Everything, from the rattling of the ceiling fan, to the slumped form of Black Hayate, to the stupid jangly commercial music, it’s all absolutely perfect, and Ed has no idea how long any of it is going to last. He’s asked before, but Roy and Riza wiggle out of the question every time, and he knows it’s a lot to ask someone but they aren’t being fair. Can’t they have the decency to just say no? 

Mustang throws a pair of boxers at him, his own boxers, and Ed catches them and moves to fold them without teasing him (not even a little bit) because this is all perfectly normal. House Hunters comes on, some couple from Texas moving to Florida to be closer to the beach or whatever and as their “must-haves” list flashes onto the screen Ed realizes he can’t take it anymore.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I need to know if you’re keeping Al or not.”

There’s no noise but the ceiling fan and the husband explaining why he wants a man cave. Mustang looks over at him, and Ed looks right back, not balking for a second. Finally, Mustang looks away, burying his face in his hands. Ed can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying.

“What?” Ed snaps, because now he feels stupid and he hates it. “What is it?” 

“Ed,” Mustang sighs into his hands. Finally, he looks up at him again. “Have you really been worrying about this?” 

Ed looks away, suddenly bright red. “Maybe,” he mutters.

“Well,” Mustang continues with a low huff of disappointment. “We were going to tell both of you at Disney World, but we’ve already filed the adoption paperwork. Of course we’re keeping you, Ed. Do you think we went through all that to let you go back into the system?”

Ed doesn’t know what to say. The House Hunter couple is touring an oceanfront home with three bedrooms and two baths in the background. They’re talking about their stupid list for the fourth time. The ceiling fan is rattling like it’s about to fall off, and maybe it is, but all Ed can think right now is that he’s a colossal idiot.

“Come here,” Mustang says, opening up his arms, and Ed crawls over the folded laundry and into his now-father’s lap, and lets himself be pulled into an embrace tight enough to crack ribs. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the tears soak into Mustang’s shirt.

“Can we still go to Disney World?” he sniffs, and Mustang laughs.

“I didn’t work all summer for nothing,” he replies. “We were worried you might say it’s for babies, or something. I have all these rollercoaster videos bookmarked.”

“No, it’s cool. I wanna go. But don’t tell Al,” he mutters, burying his face in Mustang’s shirt. “I want Mickey Mouse to tell Al. He’ll start crying. It’ll be great. That was a good idea.” 

“I’m glad,” Mustang says, and Ed clutches him tight, and then there wasn’t much left to say at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually I want to get their life after this chapter illustrated, if you're interested, PLEASE contact me! My discord is Ginger#4455 and my email is vrdoran@gmail.com! Seriously, I'd be forever grateful if some of you guys could do some art!

**Author's Note:**

> A note on foster care: I have never been in foster care or dealt with CPS. I have done a lot of reading and research on the US foster care system because I would like to be a foster parent someday. I also have friends who have dealt with the system, and who have considered calling CPS. But I do not have enough experience with foster care to write an accurate representation of it. Please do not consider this fic to be an accurate representation of foster care or social work. 
> 
> I have done my best while writing this to show the good and bad in the system, to emphasize where it is broken, and to highlight where it works. I wanted to show a variety of experiences so no one’s was invalidated or left out. If you like this fanfic, and you have a few dollars to spare, consider donating to comfortcases.org! They provide backpacks for foster kids so they don’t have to carry their stuff around in a garbage bag. Hope you enjoy the rest!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Driving Lesson](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329127) by [ImaSleepyBear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaSleepyBear/pseuds/ImaSleepyBear)




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